


merrier the more

by spacenarwhal



Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, M/M, Multi, Oral Sex, Praise Kink, Sex, Sex Toys, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-23
Updated: 2016-10-23
Packaged: 2018-08-24 03:30:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,236
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8355316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spacenarwhal/pseuds/spacenarwhal
Summary: “Any questions? Comments? Concerns?” Foggy asks.  
Marci takes a sip of her latte, holds Foggy’s gaze the entire time she’s swallowing just to see if he breaks first. He does. “Just one,” she says lightly, smile brushing the corner of her mouth where she can’t quite keep it away. “How’d you talk Murdock into it?” 
Foggy snorts, “Me? It was his idea.”





	

**Author's Note:**

> I finished all my homework for the week so I decided to put some work into this porn filled one shot rather than do any heavy lifting on my angst-riddled fic. I regret nothing.
> 
> Written for the bingo square "Threesome or moresome"

“Any questions? Comments? Concerns?” Foggy asks, clapping his hands together and staring at her with the kind of infinite patience she used to love testing when they were still in school and trying to figure out what dating meant for them. 

Marci takes a sip of her latte, holds Foggy’s gaze the entire time she’s swallowing just to see if he breaks first. He totally does.

“Just one,” she says lightly, smile brushing the corner of her mouth where she can’t quite keep it away. “How’d you talk Murdock into it?” 

Foggy snorts, lifts his own coffee cup to his mouth, grin lifting his features in a way that still proves devastatingly adorable. “Me? It was his idea.”

Huh. Marci blinks, lets this new tidbit of information sink in. She leans forward, catches Foggy’s gaze when it flicks down to her boobs and then jumps back to her face, the pink flush in his face when he knows he’s been caught. As if that’s the most scandalous thing that’s passed between them in the last twenty minutes. Her smile widens. Who knows, Marci thinks, this might actually be fun.

-

Murdock, as it turns out, is kind of a slut.

Marci heard things of course, back in school, but most of those things were from Foggy, who was already so far gone on the guy by the time Marci met him that it wasn’t even funny. Well, it was still a little funny. She once managed to make Foggy come with her hand around his dick and her mouth against his ear, asking what it was about Matt that made him attractive. “It’s his mouth isn’t it? I mean, a mouth like that? Gets a girl’s mind going. What do you think?” 

In retrospect they’ve probably been working their way towards this moment for over a decade, but Marci’s not really a hindsight kind of girl. She’s about forward momentum. And right now that momentum is pushing her hips forward as she fucks Murdock with her favorite strap on. (“It’s red Matty,” Foggy gleefully supplied while Murdock ran his hand over it, “You’re gonna love it.”)

He’s kneeling near the edge of the bed, legs spread wide to make room for her, leaning against Foggy who’s standing there, supporting Matt’s weight while Marci fucks him. She’s got to hand it to Foggy, Murdock really does have a nice ass, which she already knew, fuck everyone in Manhattan knows about it. Just like Murdock’s boy scout tendencies and self-righteous do-good shtick, it doesn’t quit. It looks particularly nice now, pushing back against the dildo while Murdock makes this low, breathy noise like he’s begging for it. Which his is, soft, needy “please” and “harder” and these surprised moans when Marci fucks into with the perfect roll of her hips.

It’s always the repressed ones, Marci remembers thinking while she watched Murdock strip, all efficient movements and a teasing grin, that are the really wild. Foggy had shot her a single nervous glance when Matt was fully naked in his scared and frankly ridiculous muscular glory, and Marci had just smiled back, showing more teeth than was strictly necessary and shed her own clothes. (“Sucks you can’t see these Murdock but maybe Foggybear can fill you in on how awesome my rack is. Or you could touch for yourself.” It was equal parts invitation and challenge and Foggy had made a sound like he was _dying_ and he hadn’t even taken off his underwear yet. All in all a good start.) 

She finds a grinding rhythm after a few sharp thrusts, lets the base of the dildo press against her clit so that the tight heat collecting in her belly get thrown into focus. Murdock’s back is a solid wall of shifting muscle against her tits and one of Foggy’s hands is petting her waist, not getting in the way or trying to control her movement just sort of touching her like he does Murdock, an affectionate affirmation, like the kisses he presses to Matt’s face while he tells him how good he is. 

“Oh my god,” Marci laughs, not so surprised as it spills past her lips, one hand gripping at Murdock’s narrow waist and squeezing. Sex with Foggy always was fun, “You two would be all about that encouragement porn.” 

Murdock manages a laugh of his own, buries his face in Foggy’s shoulder to muffle the sound as it turns into another groan when Foggy’s hand drops to wrap around his dick. “That’s my little engine.” Foggy coos with a shit eating grin on his flushed face, “Or not so little.”

Marci cackles and switches on the vibrating feature of the dildo. Just to keep things interesting.

Murdock falls apart. It’s as satisfying as she always imagined it would be. 

-

Foggy eats her out. He’s as good at it as she remembers, which is a little surprising considering he’s been shacking up with Murdock for over a year now. Maybe it’s like riding a bike. You never forget.

She’s still sensitive and tingling from her first orgasm and Matt’s still recovering beside her, come streaked and blissed out. There’s a small, miniscule, barely existent moment where she wonders if he’ll feel left out lying there while Foggy goes down on her. It isn’t as though he can even see what’s taking place, can’t get off on the visual the way she thinks someone else might, but it’s a blip on her radar. Really. If Foggy were in her place he’d probably be saying something, Marci’s co-existed with them long enough to know that beyond any kind of doubt, but Foggy’s mouth is otherwise occupied at the moment so it’s Marci who finds herself doing the talking.

Her voice shakes more than she likes when she tells Murdock about how Foggy’s licks at her, how wet she is, how he traces her clit and sucks at it, moans when Foggy slides two fingers inside her and curls them until there’s a building pressure, hot and throbbing, that makes her thighs tremble. Her breath starts to catch and her hips twitch up off the bed, the slippery sheets, and Marci turns her head enough to see Murdock’s unfocused gaze, so at odds with the look of concentration etched across his features. She reaches out to her side and grabs his arm, yanks hard, nails digging into his skin as she tugs him over until he’s rolled into her side. “Good boy.” She says, just to test it out, and it makes Murdock flush redder, makes Foggy moan into her, lights Marci up as the pressure builds. She maneuvers one of Murdock’s big hands to the back of Foggy’s head where his fingers twine into Foggy’s hair as though on instinct. Against her thigh, Murdock’s dick is half-hard again already.

She comes with Foggy’s fingers inside her and Matt’s mouth brushing her shoulder. 

Her heart’s still racing when Murdock pulls Foggy’s hair, guides him up Marci’s body and pulls him into a kiss, red tongue flicking out to lick at Foggy’s still shiny lips. Foggy’s mouth splits into a smile, gives into Murdock’s ministrations and pulls away long enough to kiss Marci’s cheek. She lets herself enjoy Foggy’s weight pressing her down into the mattress, the prickle of Murdock’s dark-haired thigh pressing against hers, kisses Foggy softly and appreciates the crinkled-eyed smile he gives her when she wrinkles her nose at the salty aftertaste on his lips. She reaches between them for Foggy’s poorly neglected erection, takes him in her hand and strokes him a few times until he’s fully hard again. Foggy makes a soft, gutted sound, follows her hand and thrusts into her grip, and Marci thinks it’s been too long since they’ve shared this. Foggy’s always been fun, a sun-bright spot, fizzing with laughter and bursting with kindness and unafraid to call her on her shit. It’s what kept them friends back when they were still riding the pendulum swing between friendship and the benefits package they sometimes indulged in. But Foggy’s always wanted monogamy and the Hell’s Kitchen equivalent of a white picket fence, and Marci’s never seen a place for herself in that specific picture. 

Murdock stills her wrist with freakish precision, his fingers strong as they pull her hand away. Marci smirks. His idea or not, it was only a matter of time before that possessive streak of his reared its head. “I think your boy wants you for himself.” Marci clicks her tongue and Foggy beams, pink and so obviously endeared it’s sickening, truly. He kisses Marci one more time, deep and thorough, then moves off her, covers Matt with his body, whispering something meant only for Murdock’s ears that Marci doesn’t quite catch. 

She watches them, the contrast between them apparent in all the obvious ways (Matt’s compact and hairy and his muscles shift under his skin like they’re trying to break free, hard in all the places where Foggy’s soft and giving and pale), though she’s more interested in the matching dopey looks they get on their faces when they part after a kiss. “Please fuck me.” Murdock asks, arms wrapped around Foggy and knees bookending his sides. Foggy chuckles. “He’s not usually this polite when we don’t have company.” 

“I find that hard to believe.” Marci says drily, still watching, one hand tracing nonsensically over her stomach because she’s not quite ready to touch herself any lower, though if they take any longer getting the show started she might manage another orgasm before the day’s done. “Murdock’s always on his best behavior for you.” 

That makes Matt laugh, his head tipped back in disbelief, his throat on display. Marci leans forward and presses a kiss to his Adam’s apple because it’s not like there’s a line they haven’t crossed as it is. She runs her fingers through his messy dark hair and Matt leans into the touch, somehow that feels more intimate that fucking him.

“Was that a compliment Ms. Stahl?” Matt asks, letting Foggy go so he can grab the lube off the bedside table. Murdock smiles, boyish and warm, and she thinks this is what Foggy’s always tried to convince her was there, this easy, unguarded affection that Marci’s never been interested in for herself but that Foggy laps up like warm milk. She’s known Murdock as long as she’s known Foggy but he’s always been a periphery character to her, someone waiting on the wings of Foggy’s life. She figures there’s truth to the old idiom, that opposites really do attract (though maybe they’re not all that different at all). Murdock and Foggy. Foggy and her. It’s always been the one thing her and Murdock have in common, the one thing they can bring themselves to agree on with minimal bitching: Foggy Nelson is one of the good ones. It’s the kind of goodness that tends to rub off on people, leaves a mark. 

Marci shrugs, settles on her side, propped up on her elbow. “How’s this for a compliment Murdock: You look real pretty when you’re getting fucked.”

Matt smiles at her and Foggy chuckles warmly from where he’s slipped between Matt’s legs, fingers shiny with lube and face nuzzling the inside of Matt’s thigh. “She’s not wrong.” He says sweetly, pressing a kiss to the skin there, before he cuts off whatever smart ass thing Murdock meant to say by startling a moan out of him. 

Marci leans forward again, kisses Murdock’s full red mouth and muffles the moan that comes after, and the one that follows that. She thought Murdock had been responsive before when he’d prepped himself before letting her fuck him but it pales in comparison to how he reacts to Foggy, how he flushes red down his chest and his mouth goes slack and his eyes flutter closed. His hips twitch up against the single palm Foggy has holding him steady and Marci keeps kissing him because, well, it turns out Foggy wasn’t overselling it when he waxed rhapsodic about what a nice mouth it was. Marci’s pretty sure he’d eat her out like a pro if she asked. She tucks the idea away. Maybe later. 

The room’s quiet except for Murdock’s heavy breathing and the signature squelch-y sound of lubricant as Foggy gets Matt ready, broken when Matt’s mouth falls open beneath hers as he gasps Foggy’s name. She glances down the flushed length of Murdock’s torso to where Foggy’s taken his dick in his mouth and almost rolls her eyes. As foreplay goes, this is overkill.

“Careful Foggybear, you promised me a show. Remember?”

Foggy pulls off with a wet pop, “A little patience, please and thank you. I’m getting there.” Matt huffs under his breath. “I’m with her. Get up here already.” He pulls at Foggy’s hair and draws a soft, pleased hum from him. “Oh God, you’re gaining up on me. In the bedroom. All my worst nightmares are coming true.” Foggy harrumphs, crawling up Murdock who just spreads his legs wider. 

Marci runs her fingers over Foggy’s mussed hair. “Please, you love it.” Matt noses at Foggy’s jaw, nods in agreement. 

Foggy makes a noncommittal noise, “I plead the fifth.”

Marci groans in an entirely non-sexual way. “You’re lucky you’re cute and a great lay because you’re also the worst.”

Foggy beams, “You hear that Matty, those are the sweet nothings I was telling you about.”

**Author's Note:**

> HOW DID THIS TURN INTO MATT GETS FUCKED BY HIS BEDFELLOWS? I LITERALLY DO NOT KNOW I JUST WANT PEOPLE TO PET HIM AND BE KIND 
> 
> The title is from 3 by Britney Spears.


End file.
